*Year - 2019*
The storm arrived before midnight, dragging a wall of rain across Seoul. Thunder rolled like a warning, rattling the windows of S. K. L. Hospital. The red sign glowed in the darkness, reflected in the wet pavement like a bleeding wound.
Inside, everything was chaos.
Nurses ran down the corridor as the glass doors burst open. Two patients were pushed in on stretchers, their clothes soaked and sticking to their skin. Both were covered in blood, the metallic smell spreading through the entrance like smoke.
Eighteen-year-old Taemin stood near the lobby, frozen in place as he watched the scene unfold. He had come only to check on his father, nothing more. But the moment the two bodies were rushed past him, something sharp twisted inside his chest.
The male patient's head hung to the side, hair matted with dirt and blood. The female beside him cried weakly for help. Nurses shouted orders as the stretchers disappeared into the operating room corridor.
"Emergency! Prep the surgery ward!" someone yelled.
Taemin swallowed. His heartbeat thudded against his ribs as if trying to break free.
A nurse hurried toward him. "Mr. Lee, the doctor said you can meet your father now."
Taemin blinked, torn from the shocking moment, and nodded. His grandfather, who had come with him, placed a hand gently on his shoulder.
"Come, Taemin. Your father is waiting."
They walked together through the quiet hallway. Every step felt heavier. When they reached the room, Taemin paused, staring at the half-open door. The smell of disinfectant, the beeping of machines, the faint oxygen hiss... it all made his throat tighten.
Inside, his father lay on the bed.
Senior Detective Lee Soobin looked smaller than Taemin remembered. His skin had grown pale, almost grey, his breath slow but steady. The tubes around him made Taemin's chest ache. Fourth-stage leukemia had stolen the strength from the man who had once seemed unshakeable.
Taemin stepped forward. His father's eyes fluttered open.
"Tae... you came."
Taemin rushed to him and wrapped his arms around him, lowering his head to his father's chest. His voice cracked instantly.
"Dad..."
Soobin lifted a weak hand and placed it over Taemin's hair.
"Do not worry, my son. Even if I leave, I will always be around you. Watching you. Guiding you."
Taemin shook his head, tears falling onto the blanket. "Dad, please... do not say that."
Soobin's voice trembled, but he forced a smile. "Taemin, look at me."
Taemin slowly lifted his face.
"We both know my time is short. Maybe a week at most. Stay strong, child."
Taemin bit his lip, refusing to cry again, but he failed. His voice came out in a whisper. "Dad... I will become a police detective. I will follow your path.
Soobin's eyes warmed. "That's my boy."
"Yes, Dad."
"Promise me something more, Taemin."
Taemin leaned closer.
"Give your best to save people. And protect the innocent. Justice must come from the heart, not the badge."
Taemin held his father's hand tightly. "I promise. I will never forget this."
The soft hum of the machines filled the silence. For a moment, they simply looked at each other, father and son, both knowing this moment would stay with Taemin forever.
A doctor stepped into the room with a clipboard. "We need to run another check, Mr. Lee," he said gently.
Taemin wiped his tears and nodded. He and his grandfather stepped out, leaving his father in the care of the nurses.
They walked toward the billing counter when suddenly a doctor rushed into the waiting area.
"We need A negative blood! Urgently! Patient in critical condition! Anyone with A negative, please come forward!"
Taemin froze.
His grandfather turned to him. "Taemin... your blood type..."
Taemin stepped forward immediately. "My blood is A negative."
The doctor's eyes widened with relief. "Thank goodness. Come with us. Quickly!"
Taemin followed them through the hallway until they stopped near the Operating Room Viewer. Through the glass, he saw the male patient again. The one from earlier. The one covered in blood.
He looked even worse now.
A breathing mask covered his face, and multiple doctors worked around him. His pulse was dropping. A nurse pressed on a deep wound near his shoulder. Another checked his vitals with trembling urgency.
"What happened to him?" Taemin whispered.
"Severe accident," one of the doctors said. "A truck crash. The female with him survived with minor injuries, but this young man... he lost too much blood. A negative blood is extremely rare. You are the only one available who can save him right now."
Taemin stared at the stranger. He could not explain it, but something tugged inside him. A pull. A feeling that he was meant to be here. Meant to help.
"I will donate," he said quietly.
The doctor nodded and escorted him to a small room. Taemin changed into a hospital gown and lay down on the bed. The fluorescent lights hummed softly above him.
A nurse came with the test kit. "This will only take a moment."
After drawing a small sample, she hurried away. Taemin lay still, looking once more through the glass window. The patient's eyes were closed, his breathing shallow, his skin frighteningly pale.
The doctor returned quickly. "Perfect match. Mr. Lee, we need four hundred milliliters."
Taemin nodded and signed the consent form handed to him.
"One request," he said softly. "Please keep my name anonymous. I do not want the family to know."
"Of course," the doctor replied.
The blood donation began. Taemin felt the slight pull in his arm, the slow draining sensation. But he kept his eyes on the man inside the operating room.
For a moment, the stranger's hand twitched as if fighting silently for life.
Taemin whispered, "Hold on. You are not done yet."
When the donation was complete, the doctor bowed slightly. "Thank you, Mr. Lee. You may have saved his life today."
Taemin smiled faintly. "It is my pleasure. But what exactly happened? And what about the woman with him?"
"They were traveling to a city medical store. A truck driver lost control and hit them. The woman was thrown clear and suffered only minor injuries. But the man took the full impact. Multiple fractures, internal bleeding. Without your blood, he would not have survived the night."
Taemin exhaled slowly. The weight of the moment settled over him.
"Please remember," he said, "keep my donation anonymous."
"We will," the doctor promised.
Taemin's grandfather approached, worry softening the wrinkles around his eyes. "Are you alright, Tae?"
Taemin nodded, though he felt weak. "Yes, Grandpa. Let us go home."
They left the hospital quietly. The storm had eased, leaving the city washed clean and glistening under the streetlights.
***
The next morning, Taemin slung his bag over his shoulder and boarded the early train back to Busan, where his mother waited with quiet concern. As the train cut through the misty countryside, the rhythmic clatter of wheels against tracks seemed almost hypnotic, and Taemin's thoughts drifted to the man he had helped-his face, his fear, the desperate glint in his eyes.
He did not know the man's name.
He did not know the story that had brought him to that dark, fateful place.
Yet, in that brief, chaotic collision of lives, something invisible had shifted. Their paths had crossed for a reason, though the full truth remained hidden, tangled in shadows and unspoken truths.
Somewhere, deep in the folds of destiny, forces had begun to stir. Someday, the threads of their lives would pull taut again, drawing them back to each other, whether by chance or by fate's quiet insistence.
That night, neither Taemin nor the boy he had saved could have guessed how indelibly this single act of courage and compassion would carve itself into the future, shaping moments yet to come.
And silently, without fanfare, fate had begun its work.